Another Flower in the Garden
by bookfreak8208
Summary: Rose Rosier didn't like being another flower in the garden. The story of how she shook off her family's history, made a name for herself, befriended the Marauders, fought a war, and lived in the 70s-disco and all. The love, laughs, and utter craziness.
1. Chapter 1

Harry sat rather uncomfortably in the Headmistress's office looking at the portraits of the many headmasters of old. Harry decided it was probably about time he visited his school again. He was twenty, an auror, and happily engaged, he should be able to face the school that killed so many of his friends. He'd arranged with the new Head Mistress McGonagall to allow him back to the newly restored castle.

"Hello Harry, it's been too long," the older woman walked into her office. Harry nodded. "Well give me a hug then. I don't bite." Harry did as he was told.

"It is very nice to see you, professor…I mean Headmistress."

"Thank you. So why exactly are you here?" she asked.

"I just want to walk around, if that's alright."

"Fine, fine. Now don't forget to say bye when you leave."

"Of course, Headmistress."

***

He walked up the third floor corridor occasionally talking to one of the students who were milling around between classes. He came to a large oak door and pushed it open revealing a large room full of trophies. He smiled as he passed the list of Head Boys and Girls featuring his father's and mother's names. He continued looking into cases looking for nothing in particular. It was after about five minutes of looking that he found something interesting. It was a picture from the 1976 Gryffindor team when Harry's dad was in 6th year. They had apparently just won the Quidditch Cup because Harry's dad was smiling and holding a large trophy. He looked at the plaque next to the picture with all the team members' names and numbers. His father was captain, chaser and number one. He read through the others not really caring until he came across his godfather's name _Sirius Black, #7, Beater_.

He continued looking through the shelves of trophies noticing the Weasleys and a few pro Quidditch players' names. He found a large blank poster hanging on the wall and wondered what it was. It wasn't until he touched it that it zoomed to life. It began to draw out a lion that was eating a raven and yelling "BEAT RAVENCLAW! GO GRYFINNDOR! POTTER BEATS ALL!" Harry carefully sat the poster on the ground, careful not to bump it again. Behind the poster there was a large corkboard. It appeared that they were just a bunch of random photos until he began to recognize the people. It was a whole group of Gryffindor Quidditch photos from his father's time.

Their were pictures of the Marauders all with broomsticks in hand, Sirius followed by a gaggle of girls, his dad showing off, some girl doing a happy dance, and said girl being carried around by Sirius. He wondered who was taking the photos. He suspected his mother until he realized she hadn't really hung with them until their 7th year. He noticed that the girl who was doing the happy dance seemed to be in most of the pictures with his father and his friends. Harry went back to the trophy cabinet. He read the plaque with the Gryffindor Quidditch team again. _Emily Jenson, #12, Chaser_. He wondered if she was still alive. He also wondered who the girl standing by his father in the picture was. She wasn't on the plaque.

He went back to the board. He hadn't noticed one of the pictures had fallen off before. He picked it up and looked at it. It was the Marauders but Sirius was walking at the camera. The picture jiggled as the camera was jostled. A hand reached out pushed to the picture taker out in front of the camera. The picture was black and white, but he could see the girl was pretty…and angry. James pulled her close to him and kissed her. She was the girl from the other photo. The picture then began to repeat itself. Harry jumped when someone walked in and tapped him on the shoulder. It was McGonagall. "You can take that if you want. No one would miss it," she told him.

"You don't mind?" Harry asked.

"Not at all," McGonagall smiled. "They were quite the wild ones."

"It looks like it," Harry said.

***

Harry's ears burned from the long ride on his broom. It was early November and not the best time for riding his broom, but he had to come here. He knocked on the door of a small town home just outside of London. He was greeted by a woman holding a rolling pin and covered with flour. "How may I help you?" She asked.

"Um, I'm Harry Potter. You're Emily Jenson. You went to school with my parents, right?"

Her eyes widened, "Yes, yes, come right on in." She ushered him inside the house. "Sit down. Make yourself at home." She ran off into the kitchen picked up an unruly toddler and stuck him in a crib. The toddler giggled and promptly laid down and fell asleep. She ran back to the kitchen pulled off her apron and set aside her rolling pin. She brought the cookies she was making into the living room. "Would you like one?" she asked Harry rather breathlessly.

"Oh, yes, thank you," Harry picked one up and began to nibble on it.

"So, what brings Harry Potter to my humble abode?" she asked.

Harry thought for a moment. He really didn't know why he was here. He just wanted to know about his family. "Um, I just wanted to know, um, were you friends with my parents?"

She didn't seem surprised, "Well, sort of, I was a friend of a friend of your father's which made me his friend. And I was on the Quidditch team, so yes I was your father's friend, but I didn't really hang with your mother until our last year. One second." She ran off into a room and came back holding a box. "Here are so pictures from my years at Hogwarts." They flipped through a few of her getting her school supplies and holding a new broom. She skipped through the next few years, "Nothing fun happened," she told him. "Here we are." There were pictures of her playing Quidditch, her with his father; the photo of Sirius carrying her was in there, as was a photo of her and the girl his father was kissing.

"Who's this?" Harry asked pointing to the girl.

"Ah, that was my best friend-Rosaleen Rosier. We called her Jack, after her middle name. She dated your father for the majority their 6th year."

"Did she play quidditch?"

Emily laughed, "Sort of. She was the 'fitness coach'. McGonagall had her arrange for the team to work out because she figured your father wasn't one to force people to do that. I think she was a substitute too."

"What'd she do during 7th year?"

Emily laughed again, "Seventh year was craziness for us. The war had started and it seemed more people were getting married by the second. You're parents were some of them. Of course, Jack and I didn't want to be left out. She surprised us all when she began to date Sirius."

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, see they were always bickering about the 'Snogging Crown' and such. No one ever thought the Snogging King and Queen would get together."

"Snogging Crown?" Harry asked incredulously.

She chuckled, "Oh yes, Jackie and Sirius were the best at what they did, always had someone with them…always."

"Wow, never thought of Sirius like that," Harry muttered.

"Well, they got engaged half way through the year, but neither of them were really ready for marriage. They were free souls. After school, they were going to travel the world. They weren't going to get married for quite awhile. Of course that didn't last."

Harry looked shocked, "They got married?"

"Yes, about two months after your parents."

"Really? Sirius never told me he was married," Harry told Emily.

"I wouldn't think so. You see some of Jackie's family didn't approve. She was a pureblood, more specifically a Rosier. Her uncle's were some of the original Deatheaters, and they didn't want their niece marrying a blood traitor. So they hid it. When Sirius got sent to Azkaban, she went over board."

"So where is she now?" Harry asked.

"Most people think her family killed her. Of course, I think she's still out there, but I don't know where."

The chatted late into the evening talking of happier things until the toddler started to cry. "Oi! Oliver, grandma's coming," she ran off, returning with the toddler in her arms.

"I think I better be going," Harry said.

"Thank you for stopping by. If you need anything please stop by again." She waved as Harry mounted his broom and zoomed off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Eight years later…**

"James, slow down!" Harry called after his rambunctious son. James came running right back to Harry.

"Sorry daddy," the young boy said grinning sheepishly before he ran back up onto the next houses porch. James knocked and politely waited for an answer. The front door opened to reveal a tall, thin blonde woman. She didn't seem older than her late thirties. "Hello, what have you got there?" She asked with a slight French accent.

"Hello, miss, I'm James Sirius Potter. I'm selling chocolate for my soccer team. Would you like to purchase any?"

She bent down to look the boy in the face, "You know I would like some. How 'bout the whole case?"

James grinned widely, "Of course! My daddy has the box. Be right back." He ran down the front porch stairs and practically pulled Harry up the stairs. "She wants the whole case!" James made exaggerated hand motions towards the stately woman. Harry looked at her questioningly. She nodded.

She bent back down and talked to the boy, "What was your name again?"

"James Sirius Potter, and that's my daddy Harry Potter," he said proudly.

"Are you by chance related to a Sirius Black or a Lily Evans and her husband James Potter?"

"Uh huh," James shook his head enthusiastically. "Lily and James were my grandparents and Sirius was my uncle. Do you know them?"

The woman nodded, "Yes I did, James. I went to school with them." Harry watched the little discussion with shock. This woman wasn't old enough to know his parents let alone have gone to school with them. Harry laid a hand on James's shoulder thinking this woman was crazy. Harry began to pull his son away. "No, Harry, wait. I'm not crazy. My name is Rosaleen, Rosaleen Rosier. Would you like to come in?"

Harry narrowed his eyes in disbelief. This was the woman his godfather married? She looked like every other suburban mother in England-platinum blonde hair, too much make-up, and slightly tight clothes. No way this was a witch, much less his aunt of sorts. "I'm sorry, I think we better be going," Harry said as he pulled his son away, "I don't know a Rosaleen Rosier."

"No, don't go, I have something for you," she ran back into the house grabbed an old photo and ran back out the door before Harry got into his car. "See," she thrust the old photograph into Harry's hands. It was a picture of his parents holding him in the hospital. Sirius was making funny faces at baby Harry, as the baby looked at him oddly.

Harry stuttered as her spoke, "I'll be back." He drove off down the street, dropping his son off at home and drove back. The woman was sitting on her porch reading the latest _Witch Weekly _when Harry walked up. Without even raising her eyes from the paper or saying a word, the door opened. "I'm sure you'd like to come in and here the whole story," Rosaleen said.

"I would." Harry followed Rosaleen into the house, and shut the door behind them.

"One moment," she said and walked off into another room leaving Harry standing in the large vestibule. A different woman returned wearing the same clothes. "Sorry, the façade I wear for my neighbors is so tacky." Rosaleen now looked more of the woman Harry saw in the photos. She had high aristocratic cheekbones, long golden hair, untouched by gray, a full mouth, a straight nose, and shimmering blue-hazel eyes. She was all-in-all an attractive woman. Of course she now had a few laugh lines around her eyes, but she looked quite a bit better than his godfather did or any of the women her age looked. She still had an aura of youth following her. "I'm guessing you'd like to hear my story?" Harry nodded. "Good, its about time someone heard it."

Harry followed her as she walked through her large entrance hall. The rest of her house felt like the inside of a chateau. It had log ceilings and much antique furniture. She had apparently used her magic to make the inside larger than the outside because the inner rooms stretched far out in front of Harry. "Where would you like me to start?" She asked Harry, eyes twinkling.

"Um, anywhere?" Harry said.

"Ha! Anywhere! Well, I'm sure you have some questions to ask before I embark on a long rambling description of my life."

Harry actually blushed, "Yes, um, well, I don't know how to ask you this exactly…but, did you, I mean don't take offense…"

Rose interrupted him, "Yes, I was married to your godfather. In fact, you're looking at your godmother. Nice to meet you Harry Potter, it's been awhile." She stuck out her hand.

"Nice to meet you, too, Miss Rosier." Harry shook her hand politely.

"Oh please, don't call me that. No one's called me that since my seventeenth birthday. I go by Jackie Betrame now."

"Well, Miss Betrame…"

She cut Harry off again, "Just call me Jackie."

"Jackie," he began again, "why haven't I ever met you before?"

"Well, I haven't exactly been available for meeting the past 27 years. It seems I was a 'threat'," she made air quotes, "to Senor Voldemort, so he decided I just be 'terminated'," she made air quotes again, "before I got too many ideas in my head. Of course, dying was not on my list of things to do in the near future so I, being the lovely con artist/master disguise-ist I am, decided to hide out where no one would find me. I didn't come out until about twelve years ago, and I haven't really felt the need to go out, due to the fact my husband and friends all died and I am now old." She spoke the last word with a bitterness only reserved for hated enemies and disgusting food.

"Well, if it's any consolation, it's very nice to meet my godmother for the first time in my memory," Harry said with a smile.

"Thank you, Harry, that's nice to hear," she said and she conjured up a set of tea cups with a wave of her hand. "Would you like some tea?" Harry nodded and the cups went off to the kitchen to pour the refreshments. The cups hurriedly came back and set themselves on the table. She handed Harry a cup. "You know I bet everyone tells you that you look like your father." Harry nodded. "But, I see your mother. You have her smile and her eyes. She was a wonderful woman. She surprised the whole school when she began dating James. Sirius nearly fainted when James told him. Of course, Remus saw it and had suspected it, as he suspected Sirius and I. Aw, I could tell you stories of them. We were Gryffindor's prodigy children and the troublemakers. Goodness, I remember when we were competing in a transfiguration contest, named ourselves the Nerd Herd after a heated debate between the names of Herd of Turtles, don't ask, and the Sexy Beast Nerds of Coolness. That was the first time I actually ever talked to your mom, but you probably don't care about that."

Harry shook his head, "No, I really would like to hear about them. Anything at all."

Jackie smiled, "Well then I have the perfect thing." She went to a large cupboard. She removed a rack of vials and a stone basin. She filled the basin with a silvery liquid and sat it on the table in front of Harry. "Would you like to see them first hand?"

"You have a Pensieve?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes, they are great to look back on happier times, and I'm sure you'll enjoy them, although bear with me through the first years. It was boring but necessary. Oh! And their may be some awkward PG-13 parts, but not too bad. I'm sure you've seen worse." She smiled and began to pour the vials into the silver mist of the basin.

"I hope you get a little insight into your parents' world," she said.

"Are you going to watch too?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, "I lived them remember." Harry looked at the substance unsure of what to do, but his curiosity got the better of him. He dunked his head, unsure of what he would see.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, well I know Harry is supposed to be seeing these memories, but I'm making it a retelling of her life before Hogwarts and her first five years there. I think the next chapters will be her actual views and not a retelling but I'm not sure.**

The first ten years of my life sped by. My parents split when I was five. I went to live with my mother in the castle my father had lost in the split. It seemed all the Rosiers loved it and wanted to live there. Of course, I didn't like that. At the time I thought my relatives were just creepy, but as I grew older I seemed to emphasize with them. Mudbloods were taking over the world, and it was the duty of purebloods to get rid of them. I always thought of muggle borns as the scum of the wizarding world. They were a horror of society, abominations, but that's what I was taught.

My mother's family was composed of several generations of zealous purebloods, the king of which was my uncle Adelmar Rosier, one of the original Death Eaters. His son Evan Rosier, my evil cousin, loved following in his footsteps. My mother was one of the 'countesses' of the 'Rosier Court.' She was a beauty. She had long brown hair, glowing hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and a willowy build. This paired with the fact that she was possibly the wealthiest Rosier should have given her higher position in the family, but she had married a _French_ pureblood wizard not an English one. She was the disappointment. They had such big dreams for her. They expected her to marry one of the Lestrange boys or a Black, not a French man.

My mother never liked failure. Seeing her marriage as one, she broke it off much to the disappointment of my father and the joy of the Rosier family. Voldemort was suddenly becoming a large player in the Rosier family. It wasn't just the normal pureblood mania that she had been exposed to her whole life; it was the cleansing of the wizarding world. My mother dove right in, bringing me with her.

I never got to know much about my father or his family until later in my life. He was a lovely man-handsome, tall, and wealthy. His family was one of the oldest French wizarding families and everyone knew it. There was only one tiny hiccup in the purity of his families blood-his great grandfather had married a half veela woman. They had kept it under wraps though, and only immediate family knew.

My father never really showed much love for the wizarding world to the surprise of his parents. As soon as he had passed his final wizarding examines he was gone. He met my mother on a vacation in Spain. They fell in love, married a few months later, had me nine months later, split five years after that. My father took his heart break and put it to music. He became a very popular muggle and wizard song writer.

When I got my letter to Hogwarts my mother's family was ecstatic. My cousin Evan had got his letter the year before, and another Slytherin in school was exactly was my family wanted. Fortunately, the sorting hat had something else in mind.

***

"Rosaleen Rosier!" One of the professors called. I walked up with a smirk on my face. I was sure to be in Slytherin. I could see my cousin smiling at me, he winked at me. I sat gracefully while the sorting hat sorted through my thoughts.

"Hmmm," it said, "pureblood, Slytherin family, spunky little thing."

"Get on with it," I told the hat, "_everyone_ knows I'm going to be in Slytherin."

"And why would that be?" it asked.

"Beeeecause my family is ALL Slytherin," I waved my hands wildly.

"Your dad wasn't a Slytherin," it pointed out.

"And why would that matter?" I scoffed.

"Beeeecause Miss Rosier, you have potential. GRYFFINDOR!"

I could feel my face lose it color. I walked in a daze to the Gryffindor table to looks of dismay from her fellow Gryffindors and angry looks from her Slytherins. I looked to my cousin who looked like he had spilled his juice all over the table. I was in a dream. What was happening? A Black and a Rosier were in Gryffindor. How could this happen?

***

After that my life became miserable. Gryffindors were disgusted by me. Slytherins didn't know what to do with me. My family wanted to disown me. I had no friends.

"Evan," I likely tapped him on the shoulder as I passed him in the hall. I was in second year and he was in third.

"What?" he asked sharply.

"Um, I was just wondering, could you help me with my charms?" I asked embarrassed.

"Help you? You're not any family of mine. You lost my help the day you were sorted." I stood there gaping at him as he walked away. That was the last time I talked to Evan civilly.

The rest of the days flew by with tears and shame. No one wanted to talk to me. No one wanted to be near me. At that stage in life I was awkward. I had yet to have a growth spurt, but my metabolism called for me to eat a ton. I was a chubby little second year with limp blonde hair and frightening blue eyes. I looked nothing like the veela blood I had.

This changed in my fourth year. Over the summer I had grown seven inches bringing my height up to a whopping six foot. I loved it. My hair had lost its limp, scraggly look and was now long and golden. My frightening blue eyes had darkened a shade bringing out gold and green flecks. My weight, now evenly divided, made a lovely body, and, of course, I'd inherited my father's flawless smile. The veela in me had blossomed.

I walked into the great hall a new woman. I saw the heads turn as I strode down the aisle. _"Who's that?" "Is that the Rosier girl?"_ I heard them whisper. I just smiled and stood next to possibly the handsomest sixth year in Gryffindor.

"Have we met before?" he asked, a cocky smile on his face.

"I don't know, but I'd sure like to," I winked at him, and took a seat two spots away. Unfortunately, the spot on the left side of me was occupied by none other than Sirius Black, my sworn enemy and constant tormentor.

He turned, surprised to find such a nice looking girl next to him. He smiled and asked, "And who do we have here?" with the same cocky smile as the sixth year.

I scowled, "Ha, Black, trying to be coy, well that doesn't work."

His eyes widened in disbelief, "Rosaleen Rosier?"

"The one and only," I told him before the sixth year walked over, whispered something in my ear and sat back down. I nodded. He smiled. I turned back to Black. "Now, if you don't mind I'd like to eat in peace."

"Don't have to ask me twice," he said and turned back to his posse.

The rest of the year you could pretty much find me in every empty room or corridor, or sometimes even in the middle of packed places wrapped around one guy or another, earning me my unspoken title of the 'Kissing Queen.'

Word spread fast in Hogwarts. Soon seventh years were asking me out on Hogsmeade weekends. I'd made a name for myself, the Slytherins accepted me again, and I was on top of my game. Unfortunately, no good thing lasts.


	4. Chapter 4

That summer between my fourth and fifth year took away all the good things, then made it better than it would have ever been. I went to live with my mother as I did every summer, but it seemed our lovely castle had been turned into a Death Eater headquarters. Everywhere I turned I would find some evil person lurking in the halls. I didn't feel safe in my own home.

Soon after my arrival I became the center of attention. I was the little family disappointment, the Gryffindor, but I was still a future Death Eater and my family let me know it. They wanted to make sure I stayed true to the family, and was not corrupted by what is right.

"How's Gryffindor?" one of my aunts asked me one night at dinner. "Must be horrible with all those filthy mudbloods hanging around." Although I didn't agree with her about the mudbloods, I still nodded.

"Yes, I do not know how you ended up in Gryffindor. You have always been a good child," another aunt added.

"Well, I think that hat has gone funny. Sirius Black got put in Gryffindor, too," an uncle chimed in.

"Yes, I heard, it's a shame. Good pureblood children being put in Gryffindor, a real shame."

"Yes, but our Rosaleen would never become one of those filthy mudblood loving blood traitors would you?"

"No, never, mudbloods disgust me. They are like the dirt of the wizarding world," I replied half-heartedly.

"Good," spoke another uncle, "I think you should come with us tomorrow night. We are doing a bit of muggle baiting."

I knew if I refused I would most likely be disowned and thrown out of the family so I nodded and hoped he would forget…he didn't.

***

The following evening I rushed down the back stairs hoping to miss my gathering family. One of my cousins caught me. "Where are you going? You'll miss the fun." He directed me the large entrance hall where my whole family seemed to be.

Uncle Adelmar was speaking, "Strike anywhere and strike hard. Torture is our goal, but death is the mission. Now, I know Evan and Rosaleen are joining us tonight. Feel free to participate. Your underage status does not matter. The Dark Lord will thank you." He swiftly walked out, all the family followed.

"Here. Put this on," one of my cousins handed me a silver mask and a cloak. This was going to a long night.

***

We apparated to the middle of Birmingham, or so my cousin said. Other Death Eaters joined us once we reached the inner city. It took only a few minutes for the Death Eaters to demolish most of the building along the street. Any muggles fleeing were shot dead as soon as they entered the mass of cloaked people. People died everywhere around me. The Death Eaters killed mercilessly. I saw my mother and many of the older men and woman watch from the corner with smug looks on their faces. I watched as a woman with an infant was killed. The infant screamed. I ran to it and tried to sooth it.

"Shhh, shhh," I cooed. "Don't cry. It'll be all right." I made glared at my mother, the woman who raised me allowed such monstrosities to happen. I did the only thing I could do, I ran.

My mother screamed, "ROSALEEN!" as I shouted "Impedimenta!" at one of my cousins as he tried to stop me.

With the baby in my arms, I fled the scene throwing hexes at any of the family I saw. I saw the anger in my uncle Adelmar's eyes as I ran past. I noticed the green flash behind me, but it missed and ricocheted off a nearby wall. I ducked into the rubble of a building, and for the first time in my life, I apparated alone.

I arrived in the packed Leaky Cauldron. I fell to the floor protecting the baby. "Help me," I groaned. As I escaped I was hit with a horrible spell that bruised my whole side. Many wizards and witches crowded around me. Someone took the baby, as someone helped me up. I ripped the mask off my face, and crushed it under my foot.

"Are you alright?" a dark haired witch asked me.

"No, I am very not ok!" I gasped. "There is an attack right now. Death Eaters somewhere. I was there. They killed so many people." I began sobbing.

"What's you're name, miss?" the witch asked.

"Rosaleen Rosier," I said between sobs. I murmur ran through the gathered crowd.

"I work for the Ministry, Miss Rosier," a large wizard walked up. "Where were these attacks?"

"I think Birmingham, but they just took me along. They wanted to show me what being a Death Eater was like. They wanted me to bring the family honor. There was no honor in that."

"Miss Rosier, were you personally involved in the attacks?" the man asked.

I nodded. I took a deep breath, "But not in the way you think. I saved that baby. Her mother was killed. I grabbed her. Shot a few hexes into the crowd and ran. I made it to the remains of a building, and I apparated. I never have done it before. The baby's name is Marie McDonald, it said on her blanket."

"Alright, I'm going to have to take you to the Ministry," he said. To the dark haired witch he asked, "Alex, will you take that baby to the nearest police station. Tell her you found her in the street. Tell them her name and ask them to search for family."

***

That night was the longest of my life. The Ministry officials had interrogated me under veritaserum, which was most definitely not fun. I was given a potion to relieve the pain from the bruises. I then had to wait in someone's office for the next few hours as the Aurors checked out the situation. I knew the death tolls from the evening paper before anyone told me. The headlines read _320 Dead in Birmingham, Death Eaters Suspected_. I sighed in exasperation. A few hours later a young, prematurely balding wizard came into the room followed by a handsome man with a head full of sandy locks. "Daddy?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's me, honey," he said and opened his arms wide. I flung myself into them and began to sob. "It's alright. Shh. Don't cry. You get to come home, to my house." I sniffed and nodded. He picked me up bridal style and carried me to the floo network fireplace area. He gripped me tighter, threw a handle full of powder into the flames and spoke his address into the fire. I felt the peculiar sensation of the network as we passed by many fireplaces. My dad stepped off at the right one and walked into dazzling penthouse.

"Wow," I whispered. The living room was HUGE! It had sloping ceilings that came to full wall windows revealing the early pink of dawn. On the opposite wall a long balcony stretched over the side. I put my hand to the window and looked out. It was astounding.

"Rose," my dad called from the state of the art kitchen. "Would you like to see your room?"

"Sure," I called back. I followed him down a real wood hallway into large room with balcony access. It was painted a mixture of my favorite colors-bright blue, magenta, purple, and lime green. "Wow," I whispered again. The large queen size bed covered with dark purple bedding. The floor matched the walls with magenta shag carpet. Bookshelves lined the walls with my favorite books, and my favorite blanket from my childhood was draped over a low table and cushions. It was perfect.

"It looks like you've expected me for awhile," I told him.

"Well, I was hoping one day you'd decide to come live with me instead of in that old drafty castle," he replied.

"Yeah," I murmured.

"I had your clothes sent over, or rather snuck over by some of my house elves, so you should find everything you need already put away. If you need me I'll be in the living room. I really enjoy watching TV; muggle things are just as good as wizard things," my father said before he kissed my cheek. "Get some sleep, you've had a rough night."

"Good night, wait um… are you one of the people who like being called by their first names or is dad ok?"

"Oh, dad is much better than Marcus," he said. He thought for a moment then added, "Do you like being called Rose?"

I pondered. My dad was obliviously to this short internal debate. _Rose sounds too much like a fluffy little three year old, but then again Rose __**is**__ traditional. Rose sounds like someone who will just roll over and let the world pass them by, then again, roses have thorns. But if I was going to get away from the mania I had just left my name might as well be first._ "Um, it's alright. That's what everyone normally calls me, but I'm thinking I like Jackie or Jack."

"Alright," Marcus said, "Good night, Jackie." He closed the door softly behind him. I thought of the name _Jack, Jackie Rosier or even better Jackie Betrame, after my father's last name. _I thought of my real name, Rosaleen Jacqueline Adelaide Aurora Rosier, it was far too formal, Jackie was much better.

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but was haunted by dreams of screaming children. Although, when I woke up, I couldn't remember a thing.


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the summer went by pretty uneventfully compared to the beginning. Of course, to every other person in the world it would be far out of the ordinary. My dad being a song writer knew about every famous wizard and muggle in the world. He took me by plane (which was crazy-who knew muggles could fly) to Milan, Paris, Tokyo, Singapore, LA, and the best of all, New York City. Since I was pretty enough my dad got me in to about every club in New York. I got enveloped in disco fever. I was a VIP member to many of the private disco clubs in New York like The Loft, and the only place my dad wouldn't let me go was Studio 54 "Too much drugs and…other stuff," he said.

I was at one of these clubs that I met William. I was dressed in a red leather strapless dress with black platforms. It was a little against my norm and the norm for the 70s but I looked great. Twenty guys had come up to me asking me for a dance, but I dismissed each one looking for the perfect partner. It was when I was 'shopping' for a guy that I noticed him. He was sitting in a secluded booth, smoking a cigarette, and watching the dancing. I strode up to him, "Hiya, handsome," I said and slid into the booth with him.

He eyed me wearily before his eyebrows suddenly rose. I was daintily playing with the golden locket at my throat, etched into the side was Gryffindors crest, but no muggle knew that. He gently reached up and picked the locket out of my fingers. "If this is Gryffindor which is from Hogwarts and Hogwarts is in Britain, then why is a lovely witch such as you here is in America?" he asked.

I stared at him in shock. I shook my head and responded, "Um, its summer."

"I know that," he smiled crookedly. His playful hazel eyes were full of mischief and his sun bleached hair shone in the glow from the disco ball. I found myself strangely attracted to him. "You know, I would feel more comfortably if you didn't stare at me. It makes it very hard for me to stare at you," he commented.

"Is that an insult or a compliment?" I asked suddenly pulling myself out of the trance like state.

"Either," he shrugged. He stuck his hand out for me, "William Bowmren, junior at California Wizarding Academy, nice to meet Miss Jackie Rosier for the first time." I took his hand and he brought my hand up to his lips.

"You, Mr. Bowmren, are certainly a charmer," I said.

"I try," he smiled, "and now how 'bout a dance, fine lady?"

"I would be honored," I grinned as he led me out onto the dance floor. Some people argued if they had ever seen the girl that happy before.

I was inseparable from Will for the rest of the summer. He took it upon himself to show me a few pointers in potions and transfiguration and he also gave me tips on how to become an animagus (which was my goal by the time I was 20). He was my best friend although the tabloids seemed to think he was my secret lover. I had to correct many of my other friends such as DJ Jay at my favorite club and Lorenzo, the bartender at another club. They were glad I had someone looking out for me.

I soaked in that summer. I was notorious party girl Jackie Rosier, daughter of multi-millionaire songwriter Marcus Betrame. I was a trend setter and fashionista. I was a disco icon, and I loved it. But I was also a witch, and when the time came for me to go back to school, I about blew a gasket. I did not want to go back when I had all my friends in New York. My father just sighed and told me it would be good for my diva ego.

Secretly my father was glad my ego was so big, it meant I forgot about what happened earlier.

***

"DAD!" I yelled from the door. "If we don't leave now, I'll be too late to make my entrance."

"Give me two seconds," he yelled back from the bathroom, "my hair won't sit right."

"Ugh, Dad, you're worse than me. Why does your hair even need to sit right?"

"Because," he said emerging from the bathroom, "There are some lovely single mothers sending their children off to school and they'll need my comfort," he grinned before I smacked him.

"You wanted me to go back to school so bad, but we'll never get there on time."

"You forget, young daughter, that you are in London, and I am a wizard."

"Thank you, dad," I muttered extremely exasperated. I was dressed for a fashionable entrance-mini shorts, tight school blouse, and killer black go-go boots, and at this rate I was never going to be able to show it off. "I would never have known that if you hadn't told me."

My father stuck his tongue out at me and picked his jacket off the couch. He turned and looked me up and down. He walked into my room picked a gold choker out of what was left in my jewelry box. He clasped it around me neck to match the bangles I wore on my wrists. "Much better," he said.

"Wow, dad, didn't know you were so in touch with your feminine side," I said as I grabbed my cloak out of the closet. He just glared at me and opened the elevator door for me. We stepped in and rode down to the ground level where our chauffeur Jeffrey waited. "To the train station and step on it!" I told him.

"Alrighty," he said and pulled out of our apartment complex. He sped through traffic, but I looked at the dashboard clock and knew I'd be cutting it close to even making it on the train.

We rolled up and I ran as best as my shoes would let me. My father came behind me hauling my trunk. I paused before entering the platform. I brushed my hair and stepped through, my panting father following close behind. The train was getting ready to leave, which ruined my entrance, but I was too busy trying to get on the train to care. My dad enchanted the trunk to go to the conductor, and I hopped on the train as it began to move. I waved from the door and blew kisses before making my way to a compartment.

I easily made my way through the train, but every compartment seemed to be full, even the people I would normally be able to convince to move wouldn't budge. I worked my veela magic on them but they wouldn't move. I reluctantly opened the door to the last empty space with my least favorite person-Sirius Black.

I sighed as pushed back my pride, "Would you mind if I sat here?" All the Marauders (minus Remus who was with the prefects) jumped at my voice. "What? I don't bite."

"No," Sirius stated blandly, "find somewhere else."

"You're Rose Rosier," Peter squeaked.

"I go by Jackie now," I stated politely.

"Whatever. Rose or Jackie you're still not sitting here," Sirius pointed out.

"There's no where else. Everything is pac…" a sudden bend in the tracks threw me off balance and sent me flying onto James Potter's lap. I threw my arms around his neck to avoid falling backwards. I attempted to blow the hair out of my face but it was unsuccessfully. James carefully pushed my golden locks behind my ears.

"I think you can stay," he said.

"Thanks," I muttered moving off his lap and into the empty space next to Peter. Sirius scowled at me and I stuck my tongue out. "I think the reason you don't like me is because I'm too sexy for you," I told Sirius. "You can't handle my hotness."

Sirius snorted, "Too sexy? You're about as sexy as a toad. I'm the king of sexy."

"Oh really?" Silently II pulled my hair to one side revealing a lovely neck, and stretching my boot clad legs across the seat leaving them on Peter's lap. I pursed my lips and spoke, "Sexy enough for you?"

Remus chose that moment to reappear in the Marauders compartment. He took one look at me sighed loudly and sat on the floor. "I'm gone for twenty minutes and you give my seat away to a girl, and not just any girl, but the bloody Snogging Queen!" Remus yelled from his seat on the floor.

"Sorry, Remus, I was just showing Sirius why he hates me so much," I told him while removing my feet from Peter's lap.

"And why does he hate you?" Remus asked.

"Because she's too sexy for him. He's jealous," James said restraining a laugh. Remus chuckled.

"Its true," I told them, "he can't take it that someone matches his elegance."

Sirius arched an eyebrow, "Are you saying that I'm elegant?"

I ignored him and looked at Remus, "Are the prefects cabins full?"

"No," he said, "Only some of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seventh years are left."

I smiled, "Well then. I think I'm off. They are way more fun than you bunch of buffoons." I picked myself up and exited the room. If I had been less cautious I wouldn't have noticed James's wink. I had casually dropped my book _To Kill a Mockingbird _on the seat so I would have to return to their compartment later.

I spent the majority of the rest of the ride flirting with some of the lovely 7th year male prefects. I excused myself as we were nearing Hogwarts so I could change into my school skirt. I did, and shortened it quite a bit. I then made my way back to the Marauders cabin to get my book.

I found, to my utter surprise, James reading out loud to his friends. "Um, I was just coming to get my book," I told them.

"Its very good," James pointed out, "Scout is awesome."

"No way, Atticus is the best," Remus said.

"Are you kidding me? Miss Maudie all the way," Sirius said.

"I like Dill, personally," Peter stated.

"Wow, um, I think Heck Tate is pretty good too." I was completely astounded that they had actually read it. I just wanted to have to come back so I could flirt some more.

"Do you want to sit down? We are on chapter ten," James asked.

I sat down, "Oh you haven't even got to the trial yet. It makes me want to cry."

I was fascinated that they were reading it. They weren't acting, they were actually listening. I never thought these boys were capable of reading. I was impressed. James read all the way to Hogwarts. He gave me back my book as we came to a stop.

"Thanks," I told him as I walked to the carriages. I about fell over when I saw the 'things' that pulled the carriages. Thestrels they were called, but I wasn't able to see them when we had studied them only briefly the year before. We were supposed to study them in depth this year. James, who was walking behind me, caught me as I stumbled.

"Its fine," he whispered in my ear, "they are harmless." He was gripping my tightly around the waist so it was hard to turn around.

"You see them too?" I asked. He nodded. Only people who had seen death could see them, so who did he see die?

Who did I see die? I asked myself. I racked my brain, but I was blank. I'd only seen the people in New York. I thought harder. I hadn't spent my whole summer with my dad, so where was I? Then it flooded my mind. They smoke from burning buildings, my mother as she stood and watched, the dead mother and her crying baby. "Oh," I muttered and fainted into the arms that still held me up.


End file.
